同章对照

It was May 8th 2020 for the fifth time, and Ghoul once again had a car accident.

As he climbed down from his Plymouth Fury after hitting his favored undead maniac, Ryan took the time to look at his beautiful partner. The car he had rebuilt from the husk he had found in the ruins of Florence, all by himself; over the years, Ryan had customized it into a marvel of technology that would make most Geniuses envious. The courier had drifted for years at the driver’s seat, survived countless explosions, rode over so many old people! Ah, the memories…

All in all, his Plymouth was the one constant in his life, the thing most important to him after Len. The partner he could never find in any human being since they couldn’t remember him from restart to restart.

“I swear, I won’t let anyone hurt you again,” Ryan whispered to his car while stroking the hood, like a cat. “The bad Psycho is gone.”

“Are you talking to your car?” Renesco asked from behind the bar counter.

“I’m not the one judging you on your current company!” Ryan replied, opening the car’s back. Once again, he decided to do something new and interesting for this restart. A method to avenge his car’s death upon the Meta-Gang once more.

“I know this sounds cliche,” Ryan told Ghoul, raising the jumper cables while doing his best German accent. “But we have ways of making you talk!”

After delivering a shocked Ghoul to the Private Security, finishing his delivery, and paying everyone off, the courier thought about his next course of action.

Intending to return to the Augusti Path—without screwing it up this time—Ryan returned to the first hotel he had booked in the city center instead of the southern district. He met Wyvern, warned her of Ghoul’s escape, and received her business card.

This time, Vulcan contacted him as normal.

He went to the Bakuto, met Zanbato, and received his mission. The day afterward, before he left the hotel, he hid a small remote camera in the room. Ryan had already booked a place somewhere else to avoid the assassination attempt, but he also wanted to catch a glimpse of the killer.

This time, Sarin showed up alone at the delivery. It appeared Ghoul remained in custody, and the Meta couldn’t spare anyone else as backup. Ryan would have wanted to say it had been a hard, tough fight. That he struggled for his life, and that Sarin proved herself a welcome challenge.

Instead, the battle lasted ten seconds.

He punched her in the face in the stopped time with Fisty; gas came out of the Psycho's mask, and she crashed on the supertanker like before. She could dish out a lot of damage, but couldn’t take it.

They hadn’t even destroyed the Old Harbor this time!

“I’m bored,” Quicksave complained, while the Augusti finished putting crates in the bathyspheres. The Private Security hadn’t even shown up!

“Good,” Zanbato replied calmly. “That means things are running smoothly. I would rather have boring efficiency every day than chaotic excitement.”

“That’s what she said,” Ryan replied, drawing a cell phone out of his pocket. It was an old pre-war Samsung he had tinkered with, enhancing its performance to match newer devices. With it, he could observe through his bedroom’s camera from afar.

The camera didn’t notice anything strange. According to the thermal sensors though, someone had flown close to the window, peeked through, and then left. Considering his room was on the tenth floor… definitively a Genome.

Now that he thought of it, he had glimpsed a flying hero during his first battle with Ghoul and Sarin. Could it be the same person?

“Does anybody know a flying invisible man or woman around here?” Ryan asked. “Asking for a friend.”

“Anybody with 100k in their account can buy an Invisibility Elixir at Dynamis,” Luigi replied, closing the bathyspheres after putting the last crates inside. He typed on his phone and the submarines vanished beneath the waves, carrying their supplies elsewhere. “For flight though…”

“The only fliers in town I know of are Wyvern, Geist, Vulcan, Devilry, Wardrobe, Mosquito, and Sarin,” Zanbato said. “Among them, only Geist can turn invisible.”

“Does he spy on people at night by peeping through their window?” Ryan asked. What confused him was that the mysterious visitor didn’t enter the room nor leave a bomb behind during this iteration. Did they detect the camera from afar and decided to avoid detection?

“No, he’s bound to one place outside town and can’t leave it at all,” the Augusti enforcer replied. “He’s a Yellow whose powers activated post-mortem, binding him to his grave.”

Ah yes, Yellow Elixirs. The potions granting ‘conceptual’ powers, from astral projection to bad luck. Ryan liked them, mostly because you never knew what to expect with them. Even by Genomes standards, their abilities were downright bizarre with weird limitations.

“Why the question?” Luigi asked, suspicious, Ryan feeling his truth-telling power activate.

“Someone like that blew up my bedroom a few days ago,” Ryan replied, which was technically true. The power forced him to be honest, but he could phrase his sentence to mislead. “As if that was original!”

“You certainly make enemies quickly,” Luigi noted, frowning. “How do you feel about that?”

Ryan prepared to tell a joke, but he felt an alien force take over his mind and change his words. “Nothing particular,” he admitted. “It helps fill the void.”

The Augusti present glanced at him strangely. “The void?” Luigi repeated, confused.

“I guess I feel empty, alone, and directionless inside.” Ryan shrugged his mind now on autopilot. “Like my brain is a bottomless well I try to fill with dopamine and endorphins. So the more trouble I have, the greater the rush and the happier I am. Truthfully, boredom is my natural state.”

An awkward silence followed.

“But on the bright side, I look fabulous on the outside!” Quicksave added to lighten the mood, before turning to Luigi, unable not to be truthful, “Can you remove that bullshit filter? It’s uncomfortable and it makes me want to kill you.”

“I have to be sure about something,” Luigi said, unsympathetic. “Are you a snitch or a double agent?”

“No, I’m on my own side only, and I have no cause at all!” Ryan replied, but couldn’t stop himself; his voice changed from happy to apathetic on its own. “To be honest guys, I’m only using you to find my old pal Len because I’m lonely and I don’t feel close to anyone else.”

“Man, you have serious issues,” one of the grunt guards said. “You should see a therapist.”

“I did, but I broke him first!” However, this was getting tiresome, and Ryan’s wits were at an end. He didn’t want to talk about his emotional hang-ups, let alone with strangers who wouldn’t remember anything soon.

“Now, Luigi,” the courier said, tensing like a lynx switching from being playful to threatened. “There is only one place where I don’t want anyone inside, and that’s my mind. If you continue, my knife will find its way to your back and nobody will save you.”

There, he wanted the truth, he had it. Thankfully, the privacy invader took the threat seriously. “Sorry for the probing,” Luigi apologized, Ryan sensing the effect lifted. “I had to be sure you weren’t pulling a fast one on us.”

The courier simply looked at his face without emotion nor a word, making the truth-teller uncomfortable. Damn it, he hated mind-readers and their cousins. No respect for privacy!

“I guess it’s time to split up and go on our merry way,” Ryan said, turning to Zanbato and eager to gather his thoughts alone. “I give you a lift this time?”

“No,” Zanbato said. “Change of plans. You’re going to my place.”

His place? “Shouldn’t you take me to dinner first?” Ryan mocked.

“Yes, of course, that’s the plan,” Zanbato replied, much to the courier’s surprise. “Do you like pizza? I cook it like no one else.”

Wait, he was serious? “My hotel is—”

“You’re going to stay at my place tonight,” Zanbato insisted, with the same tone as a big brother scolding his younger sibling. “What you need is a friendly, warm environment.”

“But I must catch my secret nemesis!”

“They will wait.”

“Give up, man,” Luigi told Ryan, clearly amused. “Zan is like cream. Sweet and it sticks to you when you get too close.”

“Is it vanilla ice cream?” Ryan asked innocently. “I love vanilla.”

“You should try chocolate,” Zanbato suggested. “It’s good for depression.”

---

What followed was one of the strangest moments of Ryan’s life. Being led at knifepoint to a dinner party was certainly a first.

Well, not literally at knifepoint, but metaphorically so. Zanbato simply stepped into Ryan’s Plymouth and refused to exit until the courier agreed to come home with him. Passive-aggressiveness at its finest.

In the end, with the mysterious assassin having backed down for now, Ryan couldn’t refuse a free meal.

Zanbato lived in a modern house north of Mount Augustus. The area was definitely higher-income than Little Maghreb nearby; local houses were large, modern, and built on steep hills overseeing the poorer districts below. Class stratification had never been made clearer.

His host’s home was a modern, two-floor house with an incredible view of New Rome and an infinity pool built next to the hill’s edge. Colored in rich warm brown and white tones, the place seemed both modest and fashionable. Clearly, mafia work paid well.

The garage opened on its own, Ryan parking his car between a Lexus ES and a heavily customized Harley Davidson sportster. Zanbato took the opportunity to remove his power armor, showing no apprehension at revealing his face to Ryan. The courier had to admit, the Japanese counterfeit was quite handsome, with a perfect jawline, buff muscles, and a three-day beard. Ryan would peg him somewhere around his mid-thirties.

“Jamie Cutter.” Zanbato shook Ryan’s hand. “No masks inside though.”

“You want to know my secret identity?” Ryan replied. “I must warn you, many have gone insane from hearing my true name.”

“Ryan Romano,” Jamie chuckled, the courier crossing his arms at his thunder being stolen, “To your credit, that’s pretty much all I know. My bosses couldn’t find much about you.”

“Really?” Ryan complained as he removed his mask, hat, and trench coat, tossing them into the car’s back. “But I’m unforgettable!”

“Not much before you went out in costume and started blowing stuff up,” Jamie clarified, opening the garage’s door and inviting his fellow Genome inside his home. The door led to a large living area that could probably fit a two-room apartment inside, including the kitchen, a sofa with a big plasma screen, and stairs to rooms above. Huge picture windows gave a marvelous sight of the city below, and the deco involved a lot of Asian art. A katana hanging on a wall, a Korean flag on the balcony, a statue of the buddha next to the TV...

Two people were already present. A dark-brown woman drank a soda can near the balcony, while an Asian girl sliced tomatoes behind the kitchen counter.

But Ryan didn’t pay them much attention, his gaze focused on something else.

Namely, the enormous rat on the kitchen counter, looking at Ryan with curiosity. The courier waved a hand at it, and the critter raised its tiny forelegs in response. Aww…

“Hi, honey.” Jamie kissed the girl in the kitchen on the mouth, while she put her knife and dinner aside. Probably his girlfriend. “I brought a new guest.”

“Hyun Ki-jung.” She nodded politely at Ryan, showing him a friendly smile. As skinny as her boyfriend was muscled, she kept her black hair short, dressed modestly, and wore discreet, yet elegant glasses. Ryan would have considered her pretty if she hadn’t suffered from weight loss and sore scars on the skin; the courier immediately identified her as a recovering addict.

“Waza?” Ryan answered.

“Waza?” Ki-jung replied with the right tone.

Ryan gasped in realization, having finally met someone who understood.

“Wazaa!” both shouted at the same time. This startled the rat a bit, who tilted his head to the side. The dark-brown haired woman looked at them as if they had gone utterly mad, while Jamie remained simply puzzled.

“It’s, it’s a very obscure reference,” Ki-jung reassured him. “You have to know the private joke to understand.”

“To be initiated in this brotherhood is the pinnacle of culture,” Ryan said, politely introducing himself to this delicate woman. “Ryan ‘Quicksave’ Romano. I’m immortal, but don’t tell anyone.”

“You say that to everyone,” Jamie pointed out, lovingly putting his arms around his girlfriend.

“Because nobody remembers!” Ryan glanced around and realized the kitchen’s rat had brought his entire family. Three of his kindred watched a documentary on the tv, another slept on the balcony, and another leaped on Ki-jung’s shoulder like a Pikachu. They looked extraordinarily clean though, more pampered pets than pests.

“I control them,” Ki-jung told Ryan, petting the kitchen rat from behind his ears. “Somewhat. I telepathically connect with them, which increases their intelligence.”

“Blue or Green?” Ryan asked.

“Green,” she replied, meaning her power affected biology rather than mere rodent telepathy. “I’m Chitter.”

She probably thought Ryan would recognize the name, but he didn’t.

Finally having enough of the racket, or perhaps curious, the balcony girl decided to join the kitchen and socialize. Although rock-disaster would have been a better name. Ryan had never met someone with more tattoos on their arms and shoulders; she even bore a bird symbol below her right eye, although it was hard to notice due to her stained glasses. The woman dressed like a biker girl, with a white sleeveless shirt, blue pants, black boots, and a cross pendant around her neck. She kept her dark hair in shoulder-long dreadlocks, and unlike Ki-jung, she clearly exercised a lot.

“Who is that, Zan?” she asked bluntly upon eyeing Ryan. “A new hobo you found on the road?”

“Lanka!” Jamie chastised her.

“I prefer the term murderhobo,” Ryan replied, his pride wounded. “I don’t have any home, but I love stealing them.”

“Oh, really?” she didn’t sound impressed, trading her soda can for a smoke. She offered everyone one, including Ryan, but nobody took her up on it. “You don’t look like the killer type.”

“My costume is in the garage,” Ryan deadpanned, the woman snorting.

“He beat up Sarin so fast I couldn’t see it,” Jamie said, making Ryan swoon in pride. “Don’t push it, Lanka.”

“Ah, new muscle?” She played with her cigarette. “About time. Can’t ride near Rust Town without those Psychos ambushing me, and half our normies don’t wanna sell Bliss there anymore.”

“Can we talk business some other night?” Ki-jung asked, clapping her hand to get everyone’s attention. The rats gathered in a line on the kitchen counter, as if expecting a cheese delivery. “Can you help set the gambling table while we prepare the pizzas?”

“Do you like poker?” Jamie asked. “Entry fee is one hundred.”

“I don’t like poker, but I like winning,” Ryan joked, most smiling in response. Well, everyone except Lanka, who took it as a challenge. “Are you a team? Is this a Cosa Nostra reunion?”

“We are all Made Men and Women, yes, and we work together,” Jamie said, flinching at the Cosa Nostra comment, “We also share this flat for practical purposes. Since a few rooms are available, I wanted to invite you to crash for a few days until our business is done. It won’t cost you anything, and you will like it more than a hotel.”

“Zan owns the place, and he can’t help but invite strangers in need,” Lanka said, “Like that hobo.”

“You will never let me live that down, will you?” Jamie sighed, his girlfriend chuckling. “It was only two weeks until he found a job.”

“I appreciate the offer to spy on me, but I prefer my privacy,” Ryan replied.

“This is a friendly proposal with no hidden strings,” Jamie insisted, and much to the courier’s confusion, he sounded genuine. Weird guy. “Although I do think you would have much to gain by joining our big family, personally and professionally.”

“I’m just looking for Len,” Ryan replied, uninterested. “Black hair, blue eyes, Underdiver?”

“Underdiver?” This time, the name seemed familiar to Jamie. “I’ve heard that name somewhere.”

“The power plant incident earlier this year,” Ki-jung said. “That was him.”

“Her,” Ryan said, much to his hosts’ surprise.

“Ah yes, I remember.” Jamie nodded. “The Private Security caught her, and Vulcan wanted to break her out for recruitment. I'm not sure if the weapons division followed through with it however.”

“You don’t work for Vulcan?” Ryan asked, confused.

“Our capo is called Mercury,” Ki-jung told Ryan. “His division oversees gambling and logistics, alongside security work on the side, while Vulcan’s group controls the weapon trade. Our bosses cooperate sometimes, but usually, every group does their own thing.”

Gosh, they sounded more like a twisted bureaucracy than a criminal syndicate. “Wait, why did Vulcan send me to you rather than recruit me herself?”

“I’m one of the Augusti’s primary recruiters,” Jamie explained. “The capos trust me to evaluate potential new recruits for a first check.”

“If you’re here rather than in a trash can, that means you passed,” Lanka said, finishing her cigarette and starting a new one.

“I will introduce you to Vulcan tomorrow, even if you don’t want to join,” Jamie promised Ryan. “That should solve your problem neatly. Until then, you’re welcome to live with us. So… what do you say?”

Ryan considered the proposal. Truth be told, a lot of Genomes in the same place should discourage the mysterious assassin from bothering him again, and except Lanka they seemed like nice people in spite of their criminal background. It could be fun.

However, Ryan was leery to join communities, since he died often and they always forgot him afterward. Getting to know people only for them to treat you as a stranger afterward was just painful; only his friendship with Len predated his time-manipulation power.

Mmm… the courier could always bolt away when he felt too attached.

“I say four cheese,” Ryan replied, the others taking it as a yes.

“Alright, ground rules, no Bliss allowed under this roof, no cats or pest control, no cocaine after ten,” Jamie said, clearly radiating some kind of dad energy. “Everybody cleans up their shit, tinkering is in the garage, you warn us the day before if you want to host a party—”

Ryan listened in silence as if he would dutifully follow the rules.

Clearly, Jamie didn’t know him well yet.

这已经是第五个2020年5月8日，食尸鬼又遭遇了一场车祸。

撞上他最中意的不死疯子后，瑞恩从普利茅斯“狂怒”上下来，特意欣赏了一番自己美丽的搭档。这辆车原本只剩个空壳，是他在佛罗伦萨的废墟里找到、一手重建的。这些年来，瑞恩不断改装，把它变成了一件足以让大多数天才眼红的科技奇迹。他坐在驾驶座上漂泊多年，逃过无数次爆炸，碾过那么多老人！啊，满满的回忆……

总而言之，这辆普利茅斯是他生命中唯一不变的存在，重要性仅次于蕾恩。它是他的搭档——这样的搭档，他无法在任何人类身上找到，因为每次重新来过，他们都不记得他。

“我发誓，不会再让任何人伤害你了。”瑞恩对爱车低语，抚摸着引擎盖，像在抚摸一只猫。“那个坏疯魔已经不在了。”

“你在跟你的车说话？”雷内斯科在吧台后面问道。

“我可没对你现在交的朋友指手画脚！”瑞恩回了一句，打开后备厢。这一次重新来过，他又决定尝试些新鲜有趣的东西。找个法子，再向超能帮报一次毁车之仇。

“我知道这话很老套，”瑞恩举起搭电线，竭力模仿德国口音，对食尸鬼说道，“但我们有的是办法让你开口！”

把电得惊魂未定的食尸鬼交给私人安保队，送完货，又把该打点的人都打点过后，快递员开始考虑下一步该怎么办。

瑞恩打算重回奥古斯蒂路线——这回不能再搞砸了——于是没有去南部城区，而是回到自己最初在市中心订的那家酒店。他见了双足飞龙，提醒她食尸鬼可能逃脱，并拿到了她的名片。

这一次，伏尔甘照常联系了他。

他去了“博徒”，见到斩马刀，接下任务。第二天离开酒店前，他在房间里藏了一台小型远程摄像头。瑞恩已经在别处订了房间，好避开那次暗杀，但他也想看看杀手的模样。

这一次，交货时只有沙林一个人现身。看来食尸鬼仍被关着，超能帮也抽不出别人来支援。瑞恩本想说，这是一场艰难的苦战。他拼上性命，挣扎求生，而沙林也终于让他遇上了求之不得的挑战。

结果，战斗只持续了十秒。

他在暂停的时间里，用拳拳朝她脸上打了一拳。气体从那疯魔的面罩里冒了出来，她和上次一样，一头撞上了超级油轮。她打人是很疼，却一点也不经打。

他们这回甚至都没毁掉旧港！

“好无聊。”快存抱怨道。奥古斯蒂的人正把最后的货箱装进深潜球。连私人安保队都没露面！

“很好。”斩马刀平静地答道，“这说明一切顺利。我宁愿每天都高效而无聊，也不要乱成一团的刺激。”

“她在床上也是这么说的。”瑞恩说着，从口袋里掏出手机。那是一部战前的老三星，经过他的改装，性能已经能与新款设备媲美。他可以通过它，远程查看卧室摄像头拍到的画面。

摄像头没拍到什么异样。不过，热成像传感器显示，有人飞到了窗边，往里面窥视了一番，然后离开了。考虑到他的房间在十楼……无疑是个基因者。

现在想想，他第一次和食尸鬼、沙林交战时，曾瞥见过一位会飞的英雄。会不会是同一个人？

“有谁认识这附近会飞的隐形人吗？男女都算。”瑞恩问道，“替朋友问问。”

“谁的账户里有十万，谁就能去迪纳米斯买一支隐形灵药。”路易吉装好最后几个货箱，关上深潜球。他在手机上输入指令，几艘潜艇便消失在海浪之下，载着补给驶向别处。“不过说到飞行……”

“城里会飞的，我只知道双足飞龙、幽魂、伏尔甘、邪魔、衣橱、蚊子和沙林。”斩马刀说道，“其中只有幽魂能隐形。”

“他会大半夜趴在别人窗外偷窥吗？”瑞恩问道。让他困惑的是，这一轮里，那位神秘来客既没进屋，也没留下炸弹。难道对方远远就发现了摄像头，因此决定避免暴露？

“不会。他被束缚在城外的一个地方，根本没法离开。”这位奥古斯蒂打手答道，“他是个黄系，能力在死后才激活，把他绑在了自己的坟墓上。”

啊，没错，黄色灵药。从灵魂出窍到厄运，它们赋予人的是各种“概念性”能力。瑞恩很喜欢这一类，主要是因为你永远猜不到它们能干什么。即便按基因者的标准，这些能力也堪称离奇，而且总有些古怪的限制。

“为什么问这个？”路易吉狐疑地问道。瑞恩感觉到，对方那种强迫人说真话的能力发动了。

“前几天，有个这样的家伙炸了我的卧室。”瑞恩答道。严格来说，这是真话。那种能力会强迫他诚实作答，但他可以通过措辞来误导别人。“搞得好像这招多有创意似的！”

“你树敌的速度还真快。”路易吉皱着眉说道，“你对此有什么感受？”

瑞恩正准备讲个笑话，却感觉到一股外来的力量接管了自己的思维，改变了他要说的话。“没什么特别的感受。”他承认道，“这能帮我填补空虚。”

在场的奥古斯蒂成员都用异样的目光看向他。“空虚？”路易吉不解地重复。

“我想，我心里大概很空，很孤独，也没有方向。”瑞恩耸了耸肩，脑子已经进入了自动驾驶模式。“就像我的大脑是口无底井，我一直想用多巴胺和内啡肽把它填满。所以惹的麻烦越多，刺激就越强，我也就越开心。说实话，无聊才是我的常态。”

随后是一阵尴尬的沉默。

“不过往好处想，我的外表还是帅得惊人！”快存补了一句，想活跃一下气氛，随后转向路易吉，依旧不得不吐露真心话：“你能不能把这套鬼话过滤器关了？这让我很不舒服，还让我想宰了你。”

“有件事我必须确认。”路易吉不为所动，“你是告密者，还是双面间谍？”

“都不是，我只站在自己这边，什么事业理想都没有！”瑞恩答道，却止不住自己的嘴；他的声音自行从欢快转为了漠然。“老实说，各位，我只是在利用你们找我的老朋友蕾恩，因为我很孤独，也不觉得自己和其他任何人亲近。”

“伙计，你这问题可不轻。”一个普通守卫说道，“你该去看看心理医生。”

“看过了，可我先把他给整崩溃了！”然而，这越来越让人厌烦，瑞恩也快忍到极限了。他不想谈自己的心理问题，更别说是对着一群很快就会忘记一切的陌生人。

“听着，路易吉，”快递员说道，身体绷紧，像一只刚才还在嬉戏、转眼便察觉威胁的猞猁，“只有一个地方，我不希望任何人闯进去，那就是我的脑子。你要是再继续，我的刀就会扎进你的后背，谁也救不了你。”

好了，他想听真话，这下听到了。幸好，这个侵犯隐私的家伙认真对待了他的威胁。“抱歉，试探得有点过头了。”路易吉道了歉，瑞恩感觉到那股影响消退了。“我得确认你没在耍我们。”

快递员只是面无表情地看着他的脸，一言不发，看得这位真言者浑身不自在。妈的，他最讨厌读心者，还有那些跟他们一路的家伙。对别人的隐私毫无尊重！

“我看也该散了，大家各走各的阳关道吧。”瑞恩转向斩马刀，迫不及待地想一个人整理思绪。“这回我捎你一程？”

“不。”斩马刀说道，“计划有变。你去我家。”

他家？“你不该先请我吃顿饭吗？”瑞恩调侃道。

“对啊，当然，我就是这么打算的。”斩马刀的回答大出快递员意料。“你喜欢披萨吗？我做的可是一绝。”

等等，他是认真的？“我的酒店——”

“你今晚住我家。”斩马刀坚持道，语气活像一个在训弟弟的大哥。“你需要一个友善、温暖的环境。”

“可我得抓住那个神秘宿敌！”

“对方可以等。”

“放弃吧，伙计。”路易吉对瑞恩说，显然看得很开心。“阿斩就像奶油。甜是甜，可你一靠近，就会黏上你。”

“是香草冰淇淋吗？”瑞恩天真地问道，“我喜欢香草。”

“你该试试巧克力。”斩马刀建议道，“有助于缓解抑郁。”

---

接下来，瑞恩经历了人生中最离奇的时刻之一。被人拿刀架着去赴晚宴，这种事还真是头一回。

好吧，不是真的拿刀架着，只是打个比方。斩马刀径直钻进瑞恩的普利茅斯，表示除非快递员答应跟他回家，否则他就不下车。消极对抗的最高境界，莫过于此。

到头来，既然神秘刺客暂时退了，瑞恩也没法拒绝一顿免费的晚餐。

斩马刀住在奥古斯都山以北的一栋现代住宅里。这片地区居民的收入，显然比附近的小马格里布高出一截。当地房屋宽敞、现代，建在陡峭的山坡上，俯瞰着下方的贫困城区。阶级分层，再没有比这更直观的了。

主人家是一栋现代风格的两层住宅，新罗马的壮丽景色尽收眼底，山坡边缘还修了一座无边泳池。屋子以浓郁温暖的棕色和白色为主调，既低调又时尚。显然，替黑手党干活，报酬相当不错。

车库门自动打开，瑞恩把车停在一辆雷克萨斯ES和一辆经过大幅改装的哈雷戴维森运动者摩托之间。斩马刀趁机脱下动力装甲，毫不介意让瑞恩看见自己的真容。快递员不得不承认，这个冒牌日本人长得相当英俊，下颌线完美，肌肉结实，留着三天没刮的胡茬。瑞恩估摸着，他大概三十五岁上下。

“杰米·卡特。”斩马刀和瑞恩握了握手。“不过，进屋不许戴面具。”

“你想知道我的秘密身份？”瑞恩答道，“我得警告你，很多人光是听到我的真名就疯了。”

“瑞恩·罗马诺。”杰米笑道。风头被抢的快递员抱起了双臂。“不过得承认，我知道的基本也就这么多。我的上司没查到多少关于你的资料。”

“真的？”瑞恩一边抱怨，一边摘下面具和帽子，脱下风衣，扔进汽车后座。“可我明明让人过目不忘！”

“我是说，在你穿着那身行头到处晃悠、开始炸东西之前的资料不多。”杰米解释道，打开车库通往屋内的门，邀请这位同为基因者的客人进家。门后是一片宽敞的起居空间，大概能塞下一整套两居室公寓，包括厨房、配着大号等离子电视的沙发，以及通往楼上房间的楼梯。透过巨大的观景窗，山下的城市美景尽收眼底。室内摆着不少亚洲艺术品。墙上挂着一把武士刀，阳台上悬着一面韩国国旗，电视旁还有一尊佛像……

屋里已经有两个人。一个深棕肤色的女人在阳台附近喝着罐装汽水，一个亚洲女孩则站在厨房料理台后切番茄。

但瑞恩没怎么留意她们，他的目光落在了别的东西上。

也就是厨房台面上那只硕大的老鼠。它正好奇地打量着瑞恩。快递员朝它挥了挥手，小家伙便抬起细小的前肢回应。哎哟，真可爱……

“嗨，亲爱的。”杰米吻了吻厨房里女孩的嘴唇，她也放下了刀和手头的食材。大概是他的女朋友。“我带了个新客人回来。”

“玄·基贞。”她礼貌地向瑞恩点头，露出友善的微笑。她男朋友有多壮，她就有多瘦。她留着黑色短发，衣着朴素，戴了一副不显眼却很雅致的眼镜。如果不是身形消瘦、皮肤上还带着疮疤，瑞恩会觉得她很漂亮。快递员一眼便认出，她是个正在戒毒康复的人。

“咋样啊？”瑞恩回道。

“咋样啊？”基贞用恰到好处的腔调回应。

瑞恩恍然吸了口气，他终于遇到了一个懂行的人。

“咋样啊——！”两人同时喊道。老鼠被吓了一小跳，歪过脑袋。深棕头发的女人看着他们，仿佛他们已经彻底疯了，杰米则只是满脸困惑。

“这、这是个很冷门的典故。”基贞安抚他道，“得知道那个圈内笑话才能明白。”

“能加入这个兄弟会，才算登上了文化的巅峰。”瑞恩说着，礼貌地向这位纤弱的女士自我介绍。“瑞恩·‘快存’·罗马诺。我是不死之身，不过别告诉别人。”

“你见谁都这么说。”杰米指出，满怀爱意地搂住了女朋友。

“因为没人记得住！”瑞恩环顾四周，发现厨房里那只老鼠把全家都带来了。三只同类正在看电视上的纪录片，一只在阳台睡觉，还有一只像皮卡丘一样，跳上了基贞的肩头。不过，它们都格外干净，与其说是害兽，不如说是娇生惯养的宠物。

“我能控制它们。”基贞对瑞恩说，挠了挠厨房里那只老鼠的耳后。“在一定程度上。我能和它们建立心灵联系，这会提高它们的智力。”

“蓝系还是绿系？”瑞恩问。

“绿系。”她答道，这意味着她的能力会影响生理机能，而不只是和啮齿动物心灵感应。“我是吱喳。”

她大概以为瑞恩听到这个名字就知道她是谁，但他并不知道。

阳台上的女孩终于受够了这场喧闹，又或许只是好奇，决定也来厨房凑个热闹。不过，叫她摇滚灾星可能更合适。瑞恩从没见过谁的胳膊和肩膀上有那么多文身；她右眼下方甚至还有个鸟形图案，只是被有色镜片挡着，不太显眼。她打扮得像个机车女郎，白色无袖衫、蓝裤子、黑靴子，脖子上挂着十字架吊坠。深色头发编成齐肩的脏辫，而且和基贞不同，她显然经常锻炼。

“这谁啊，阿斩？”她打量着瑞恩，直截了当地问道，“又从路边捡了个流浪汉？”

“兰卡！”杰米斥责道。

“我更喜欢杀人游民这个称呼。”瑞恩的自尊受到了伤害。“我自己没家，不过很喜欢偷别人的家。”

“哦，是吗？”她听起来不以为然，放下汽水罐，拿出一支烟。她给每个人都递了烟，包括瑞恩，但没人接。“你看着不像会杀人的。”

“我的战袍放在车库了。”瑞恩一本正经地答道，女人嗤笑了一声。

“他把沙林打趴下的速度快得我都没看清。”杰米说道，听得瑞恩得意得飘飘然。“别太过分，兰卡。”

“啊，新来的打手？”她把玩着香烟。“早该来了。我骑车只要靠近锈镇，那些疯魔就来埋伏我，我们手下的普通人有一半都不想再去那儿卖极乐了。”

“生意上的事，能不能改天晚上再谈？”基贞拍了拍手，把大家的注意力吸引过来。老鼠们在厨房台面上排成一列，仿佛正等着奶酪送到。“我们做披萨的时候，你们能帮忙把牌桌摆好吗？”

“你喜欢打扑克吗？”杰米问道，“入场费一百。”

“我不喜欢扑克，不过我喜欢赢。”瑞恩开了个玩笑，大多数人都笑了。好吧，除了把这话当成挑衅的兰卡，其他人都笑了。“你们是一个团队？这是西西里黑手党的聚会吗？”

“是啊，我们这里的男女都是家族正式成员，也一起做事。”听到“西西里黑手党”这个说法，杰米微微瑟缩了一下。“为图方便，我们也合住在这里。反正还有几间空房，我想请你来住几天，直到我们这桩生意做完。不会收你一分钱，而且你会觉得比酒店舒服。”

“这地方是阿斩的，他一看见需要帮助的陌生人，就忍不住往家里请。”兰卡说道，“比如那个流浪汉。”

“这事你是永远都不会放过我了，对吧？”杰米叹了口气，他的女朋友轻笑起来。“他只住了两星期，就找到工作了。”

“谢谢你邀请我来接受监视，不过我还是更喜欢保有隐私。”瑞恩答道。

“这只是出于友善的提议，没有暗藏的条件。”杰米坚持道。令快递员困惑的是，他听起来竟然是真心的。真是个怪人。“不过我确实觉得，加入我们这个大家庭，对你的生活和事业都会大有好处。”

“我只是想找蕾恩。”瑞恩没什么兴趣地答道，“黑头发，蓝眼睛，深潜者？”

“深潜者？”这回，杰米似乎对这个名字有印象了。“我在哪儿听过这个名字。”

“今年早些时候的发电厂事件。”基贞说道，“就是他干的。”

“是她。”瑞恩纠正道，几位主人都很意外。

“啊，对，我记起来了。”杰米点头。“私人安保队抓住了她，伏尔甘想把她救出来，招进组织。不过我不确定军火部后来有没有付诸行动。”

“你们不替伏尔甘干活？”瑞恩困惑地问。

“我们的头目叫墨丘利。”基贞告诉瑞恩，“他这一部负责赌博和后勤，另外也兼做安保。伏尔甘那一组则掌管军火交易。我们的上司偶尔会合作，但通常都是各干各的。”

老天，听着不像犯罪集团，倒像个畸形的官僚机构。“等等，伏尔甘为什么把我送到你这里，而不是亲自招揽我？”

“我是奥古斯蒂主要的招募人员之一。”杰米解释道，“各位头目信得过我，让我对潜在新人做第一轮评估。”

“你现在坐在这里，而不是躺在垃圾桶里，就说明你过关了。”兰卡说着，抽完一支烟，又点上了一支。

“明天我会介绍你和伏尔甘见面，就算你不想加入也一样。”杰米向瑞恩保证，“这样应该就能顺利解决你的问题了。在那之前，欢迎你住在这里。那么……你怎么说？”

瑞恩考虑了一下这个提议。说实话，这么多基因者聚在一处，应该足以让那神秘刺客不敢再来找他的麻烦。而且除了兰卡，这些人虽然混黑道，看起来却都挺不错。也许会很好玩。

然而，瑞恩对融入群体一向心存顾虑。他经常死，而每次死后，他们总会忘记他。认识一些人，最后却又被他们当成陌生人，实在太痛苦了。只有他和蕾恩的友谊，开始于他获得操纵时间的能力之前。

唔……一旦觉得牵挂太深，快递员随时都可以拔腿走人。

“要我说，四重芝士。”瑞恩答道，其他人就当他答应了。

“好，先讲基本规矩。这屋里不准有极乐，不准养猫，也不准灭虫灭鼠，十点以后不准吸可卡因。”杰米说道，周身明显散发着某种老爸气场。“各人收拾各人的破烂，搞改装去车库，想开派对要提前一天通知我们——”

瑞恩默默听着，好像他真会老老实实遵守规矩似的。

显然，杰米还不够了解他。